Poetic Techniques
by Jessy-Fran
Summary: "All writers have some darkness hiding in them, some sort of seductive power they use to lull a reader into believing every word. It's that power you lack, Elsa. You are far too... clean. Too innocent." Elsa might not pass her final year if she doesn't open up and use her emotions. But what can she do to help herself? Can anyone else help her? University!AU [Jack/Elsa][Pitch/Elsa]
1. Pathetic Fallacy

**A/N: This isn't the Pitch/Elsa story the fandom deserves. It's not even the Pitch/Elsa story the fandom needs. But's it's the Pitch/Elsa story you're gonna get. Sorry about that...**

**I wanted to do my own take on the dreaded 'Highschool!AU'. As ever, reviews are hugely appreciated and I shall reply to them all.**

* * *

Elsa took a deep breath and got out of her car.

"This is it. Final year of university..." She swung her bag onto her shoulder and after making sure the doors were locked (it never hurts to double check), Elsa started off towards her one and only lecture of the day.

It had been a funny sort of summer break, the young women mused as she left the concrete car park and turned towards the humanities building. Her sister Anna had been accepted into the same university as her current boyfriend and so Elsa had spent the summer helping her sister find all the items she needed to take with her. Elsa smiled to herself as she thought about how excited Anna had been.

"_And I'll need a garlic crusher, obviously."_

"_Why? What for?"_

"_For crushing garlic, duh."_

"_Ah, of course. Don't you think it might be more sensible to get a slightly more useful tool? After all, you can't juice fruit with a garlic crusher."_

"_You're right! Elsa, go find a lemon juicer!"_

She was a wild one, that was for certain, but Elsa loved her little sister more than anything else in the world. Anna lived for every single moment that life was going to give her and in some ways Elsa envied that carefree attitude. The number of times Anna had gone out with her friends while Elsa was busy balancing utility bills and rent fees, she honestly couldn't remember, but it was worth it to watch her sister grinning in her shared kitchen after they had moved endless boxes out of the car.

And so Anna had headed off to Corona University, garlic crusher in tow, and Elsa had started her final year at the University of Arendelle. It was close to home but Elsa had never really had much of a desire to move far away, she was comfortable and happy enough where she was. That, and she couldn't have left Anna to go anywhere else.

Sighing, Elsa pushed the door to the lecture theatre. Being one of the first to arrive she picked a spot on the edge of the row and settled down, pulling out a notebook and pen.

"Miss Talvi, good to see you! How were your summer holidays?"

Professor North was at the front of the room, looking as amiable and vast as ever and despite the beard Elsa could tell he was smiling by the crinkle of skin at the corner of his eyes.

"As pleasant as it always is. My younger sister left for university a couple of weeks earlier than me so I was happy for the peace and quiet!" Professor North laughed heartily at this as he arranged his Over Head Projector slides. "But to tell you the truth, I'm much more of a fan of the cold."

"Ah, you and me also Miss Talvi." He looked as though he might have continued talking, if not for a loud clatter by the lecture theatre doors. Elsa didn't need to look up to know exactly who it was who had just crashed their way into the room.

"Mornin' Nicholas! Fine day for a dull as dishwater lecture, don't you think?"

Professor North grumbled something in Russian at his notes before looking up and smiling again.

"Good morning Mr Frost. If you aren't keen I'm sure I can transfer you to the biology department."

"Yes" Elsa chimed in, still not bothering to look up to the newcomer. "I hear they're doing some testing on primates. Maybe you could volunteer?"

Elsa's vision was quite suddenly full of messy white hair and blue eyes.

"You break my heart, sweetheart."

"I've done no such thing. You're more resilient than that, Jack." She grinned and pushed the boys' face away from hers. In a display of fake hurt and mocking tears, Jack clasped his hand to his chest.

"What did I ever do to gain such scorn from the Ice Queen? Me, but an 'umble country lad!"

"Jack Frost, you are a fool!" Elsa giggled and shuffled her chair forward so Jack could slip down the row and sit down. They spoke about their respective summers and Elsa wondered again why she never took Jack up on his many offers of a night out? Sometimes she didn't understand herself.

He was a very cute looking guy, that was for sure, and they got on like a house on fire. It wasn't as though he wasn't interested either. The first time was probably as a joke between friends, a silly comment that wasn't intended as anything serious, but after Elsa had rejected his offer the third or fourth time, she wasn't so sure. The rest of their friends thought it was a running joke, and Jack was happy for that belief to continue. However, Elsa saw that flicker of hope every time he made his dramatic proclamations of love and sweeping gestures and she knew there was some truth in it. It was only a little crush, she was sure, but it was enough to make sure that she never said yes. Jack was a dear friend and she didn't want to do anything to hurt him. Besides, as she always said to him, she just wasn't ready for a relationship. She'd only just managed to get her sister to university and now she needed to concentrate on graduating and getting a decent job.

"Elsa, you look tired." Jack changed the subject yet again, "You're not worrying about Anna are you?"

"Ha, when am I ever not worrying about Anna?"

His eyes filled with concern and he rested his fingers lightly on top of the back of her hand. His fingertips were still cold from the early morning chill and while it didn't bother Elsa, she took no comfort from his touch.

"You've got to look after yourself now Elsa. Anna's a big girl, she can manage on her own."

She pulled her hand away from his, smiling gratefully, and thankfully that was when Professor North decided to start the lecture.

Creative writing was one of those strange subjects that most people didn't take very seriously, Elsa included, but she couldn't deny that she enjoyed taking it as an extra module on top of her English literature degree. She found it incredibly relaxing to take time out of her day to pen a poem or experiment with a paragraph. True, there were always times when she was hit with the dreaded writers block but Professor North was talented teacher and always managed to inspire some sort of wonder or passion in Elsa. She would channel that into something and the words would flow, almost like magic, on the page.

About ten minutes into the lecture there was another clang at the top of the stair where the door to the theatre was. Professor North stopped talking about the syllabus and looked up confused, only to change to his trademark smile after a second or two.

"Ah, and here I was beginning to think you would never come!"

"I was held up at the office."

Elsa turned in her seat to see who had interrupted their lecture but she needn't have bothered as he was already striding down the steps to stand at the front. A tall, almost gaunt man with dark hair and bright eyes stood next to Professor North and surveyed the classroom. Elsa felt as though he was sizing each of them up. Despite the large room they used they were only a small class and as he scanned each their faces Elsa knew he was making decisions on just how worthy of his time they were. When he reached hers she smiled as she always did but he didn't stop for a beat before moving onto Jack, where she swore there was a smirk of recognition. She didn't have time to linger on it as Professor North was soon speaking again, this time to the entire class.

"Everyone, this is Mr Black. He will be taking the Thursday afternoon seminar session for me." He turned to the pale young man and slapped him heartily on the back. "He was one of my students two years ago and has gone on to be a very successful writer _and _publisher, have you not?"

"Yes. And don't call me 'Mr', I would much rather everyone used my first name, Pitch." He words were kind but Elsa noticed there was little emotion beyond contempt behind them. "I have been lucky enough to have my work printed, yes, and I work for a popular publishing company." He stepped forward, away from Professor North as though his next words might earn him another back pat. "But it was hard work, and that is why I am here. The next while weeks I will be learning what you are all capable of and then we will see how you can be made better." The last words were spoken with a sneer.

Professor North laughed again.

"Oh Pitch. Ever the serious one!"

The class broke out into nervous laughter, but Elsa knew that every single one of them felt the same way as she did;

This year was going to be very different from the last two.

* * *

The rest of the two hour long lecture consisted of the Professor talking about how the year was going to work and Pitch Black's involvement in it. At the end he asked Pitch to set a small writing task to be emailed to him at some point on Wednesday in order for him to get a feel for each persons' ability and style.

"Two hundred words or 20 lines, use an emotion you felt this summer as your starting point."

That was it. No hint on what sort of style he wanted it in. No writer to keep in mind whilst we wrote. No nothing. Well tonight would be an interesting brain storm, that was for sure.

When they got out of the lecture theatre Jack was storming ahead and Elsa had to jog to catch up with him. When she managed to she was rather shocked to see the normally cheerful boys' face filled with anger.

"Jack, are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine."

Else didn't know what to do. She had never known Jack to be short with her and if she was honest it worried her a little.

"Erm, okay. What you like to go get a coffee or something?"

Jack stopped a little ahead of her and sighed. Turning around he let a weak smile come to his face and nodded.

"Actually, that would be great. Thanks Elsa."

Together they walked in relatively easy silence, but there was an undercurrent of tension still lying just under the surface. Elsa hoped it wouldn't last for long.

Once they had their drinks they sat in a quiet corner of the campus coffee shop. Elsa liked having her classes early in the morning because she could enjoy places this this without the busy hustle and bustle of crowds. She was happy to be around her tight knit group of friends but large crowds still bothered her.

Finally, after what felt to her like hours of silence, Jack spoke up.

"I'm sorry about back there. I just…" His hands tightened around his mug, "I _hate_ that guy."

"Who, Pitch? You know him?"

"'Know' isn't really the right word. I 'suffered through' him." Jack wasn't looking Elsa in the eye and she knew better than to try to catch it. It was an action she knew all too well so she sat quietly, waiting for Jack to talk in his own time.

"Remember in first year when I tried out for the ice hockey squad?" Yes, she did. It was a gruelling set of trials that she had come to watch for an hour or so before leaving for a guest seminar on Keats. She had been beyond impressed with Jack and how swift he was on the ice, almost as though he had been made for skating. She had done figure skating when she was younger, before her parents- before she had to look after Anna, and she knew that what he was doing out there wasn't easy. She nodded, half to Jack and half to herself. She didn't want to start thinking about the past.

"And do you remember that one guy on the squad, the one that took me out and broke my arm?" Well, she hadn't been there to see it but Toothiana had recounted the moment quite vividly once Jack had been taken to hospital. Elsa nodded again.

"Well, that was Pitch. He was vice team captain, though he might as well have been captain because his word was law on that team. And no wonder, he was a scary mother fucker."

"Okay, Jack. I know he broke your arm but I'm sure that was an accident. He didn't even know you!"

"Elsa, that's just the beginning. I got on the team, despite my injury, and that wasn't even the half of it. He'd never pull his strikes, even when I first got back on the ice, and every training session he'd have something to say. Initiations were the worse though. Me and the other new squad members did all sorts in order to gain the favour of the team, but he liked to pick on me the most. He'd call me in the middle of the night, before deadlines, asking for coffee or pizza. And on team nights out he called all the shots, literally. One night he made one guy drink until he needed to get his stomach pumped. And so much more I don't want to go into right now." His face darkened. "It was a nightmare, Elsa."

"Why didn't you just say no? Seriously Jack, what was the worse he could do?"

"He threatened to kick me out of the team and to get me banned from the rink."

This may have sounded petty to most people but Elsa knew how much skating and just being near to the ice mattered to Jack. Besides, he worked as a skating instructor on the weekends and losing that job could quite literally spell the end of his university career. Jack wasn't rich and working part time was sometimes the difference between eating and going hungry.

"I see." She reached across the table and put a hand on top of his, not unlike how he had earlier that morning. It was risky but she wanted to draw him out of his thoughts. Luckily it worked, and he smiled warmly at her.

"It's okay though. It's been a few years. Who knows, maybe the arsehole has grown up a bit?"

"Look who's talking!"

And just like that, the tension was gone and he was back to being the Jack whom Elsa knew by heart.

* * *

That evening she sat down with a bowl of pasta and her creative scribbles notebook. She would eventually write it down on the computer but she felt that writing things by hand was so much easier to edit.

"_Almost like a lost art_" she mused internally, tomato sauce dripping down her chin. Just then the phone began to ring and Elsa nearly knocked the bowl from her lap in her rush to get to the phone. It was almost definitely-

"Anna!"

"Yup, that's right! You're big grown up little sis!"

Elsa grinned. It was a relief to hear the cheerful voice of her sister. She caught the escaped sauce with the back of her hand and after looking around to check no one had seen her (though who would, what with her being in her own house) licked the back of her hand clean. Well, she was a student after all. No harm in being a little messy!

"So," she started after settling back down with her dinner, "how's it been so far?"

"It's in_-credible_! I live with these really awesome people who are all really nice and one of them has a breaded dragon called Toothless but I assure you he definitely has teeth, and then my lectures are all really exciting and fun and today I burnt my toast so instead I went to the store to get a breakfast bar and a coffee and I felt so awesome and cool with my coffee, in my lecture!"

Elsa laughed. She wondered if she was ever this excitable when she had gone to university. A small wave of sadness over came her when she realised that no, she hadn't. She had been far too busy making sure Anna had her braces removed that day and dealing with the electricity bill to worry about coffee. But she pushed that aside, now was not the time to think about that.

A long part of the conversation revolved around Hans and how 'sweet' and 'kind' he was, and Anna reassuring Elsa that she didn't need any more lectures about sexual health.

"Besides it's not like you'd know_, Ice Queen_…"

"Hey, I know enough!" Elsa retorted, her face flaring red. Just because she didn't _actively_ know about it doesn't mean she doesn't _read_… "Besides, I'll have you know-"

"Eww, I don't want to know _anything_, thank you very much! This is way too weird, even for me!"

"I'm just trying to help, Anna. I don't want you getting in a situation."

"Yeah yeah, sure. Yucky babies and screaming pregnancies, or something like that. Anyway, I've got to go! There's a freshers' party tonight and the whole flat is going!"

"No worries." Elsa wanted to tell her to be safe, to not drink too much and to call her if she has every problems, but she knew it would all fall on deaf ears. Instead she just finished with "I love you, Anna."

"I love you too, sis. Speak later, okay?"

"Ok-"

But Anna had already hung up. Elsa looked at the phone in her hands and for the first time since she had left Anna in that communal kitchen, she felt just how far away her sister was.

Elsa looked at the notebook they lay discarded on the floor. She knew exactly what she was going to write about.

* * *

_It wasn't until I was looking through the rear view mirror  
Until I was on the motorway  
Until I was stood at the sink,  
Up to my elbows in bubbles  
With no one to dry whilst I washed  
Until that first phone call  
That I felt the distance between us._

_And I knew you'd never really come back home._


	2. Alliteration

**A/N: Thank you so much for your kind reviews. I love this pairing and have been trying to bring something a little different to the table with this story. Please read and review if you are so inclined. They are very encouraging!**

* * *

Elsa was understandably nervous when Thursday afternoon came around. It wasn't that she didn't believe that her piece was good enough but she knew well that different writers had different tastes. Ultimately she wanted to make a good first impression. No matter what Jack said, Mr Black was a good connection to have, especially if she wanted to try and get her work published in the future.

'_No point in burning any bridges,_' she thought to herself. '_Besides there's every chance Jack is wrong about him, or at least that he's different now._' If Elsa was honest with herself she had been thinking about Jack's story and the more she pondered, the more she realised Jack was probably exaggerating. It was very like him to be over the top about something, and while Elsa would be the first one to say Pitch Black didn't seem like the friendliest person in the world she couldn't make judgements until she had met him properly.

The Writers Room was a pleasantly bright, informal space with a few sofas and an entire wall dedicated to books from all sorts of different writers and poets. There were even some pieces from former students available to flick through. It was a room Elsa enjoyed spending time in when it wasn't being used for seminars, especially over the holidays when her friends went home.

Smiling at the other people who were already there, Elsa settled into a corner of the sofa and pulled out her raggedy notebook and a pen. Jack had told her he was going to be a little bit late for the first seminar and she wasn't sure if it really was because his lecture was on the other side of campus or whether Jack was doing his best to avoid Pitch Black. She rarely questioned her friends but this seemed like a fairly petty course of action.

Everyone else had arrived at least five minutes before the class was due to start and Elsa could feel a certain amount of trepidation in the room. No one really knew what to expect from this stranger but they all knew that the first impression they had received hadn't been the most positive. Small groups of friends discussed the new tutor and how he might conduct the class. Finally, almost exactly as the minute hand ticked on to the hour, Pitch Black pushed open the door.

He didn't say a word as he pulled out a chair from one of the writing desks and settled himself separately from the rest of the group. Just like the first time they all met, Pitch Black looked around the room with thinly disguised disgust on his face. Elsa could tell he would rather be anywhere else but in that room.

"So, you are the students I have for the next term?" The man pursed his lips together tightly before continuing, a small smirk creeping into his lips as he lent back in his chair casually. "If you were listening in Mondays lecture you will remember my name is Pitch Black and I am taking your seminars for this first term. As a guest lecturer it's my job to help answer any questions you might have about the writing or publishing industry, and also to 'nurture' your writing style as best as I can."

He stopped for a brief pause as he looked about the room. Elsa felt more than saw his eyes fall upon her and was thankful that it was only for a moment before he continued his introduction.

"Be aware that I am volunteering my time and receive no benefit in helping you beyond that of assisting those of you who are worthy enough into the realms of writing. If you slack off and fail this term, it has no effect on me. And this is where the first writing task came into practice…"

Elsa felt apprehension bubble up inside her. She loved writing but panic always set in when she had to read out to her peers. They were all so very talented and she had great difficulty in not comparing herself to them. She shuffled a little further back into her seat. The movement seemed to catch the older mans eye and he smiled at her. Elsa had to suppress a shiver. There was nothing kind about that smile.

"Ah ah, no shrinking back." His face seemed to light up as Elsa become more uncomfortable. "Thank you for volunteering, Miss…?"

"Elsa Telvi."

"Miss Telvi. Could you please read what you wrote for this session? And stand up to read," he spoke to the whole classroom, "if you don't respect your work enough to stand to read it, why should anyone respect it enough to listen?"

Swallowing down the flickers of panic which had crawled their way up Elsas throat, she stood to read out her poem.

"Erm, this is about my-"

"No! Don't tell us, let us tell you. Just read your piece."

"Oh okay, sorry!" The panic rose again. Elsa couldn't remember a time when she had been so worried about reading in front of people. She know that the only reason she was so worried was the new presence of one Pitch Black, but she didn't have time to query the feeling. The class was waiting for her to read.

"It wasn't until I was looking through the rear view mirror. Until I was on the I was stood at the sink, up to my elbows in bubbles with no one to dry whilst I washed. Until that first phone call that I felt the distance between us. And I knew you'd never really come back home."

"Title?"

"Pardon?"

"Your poem, does it have a title?"

"Oh, no I left it untitled. Is that a bad thing?"

"It was a creative decision, even if it was an unconscious one."

That didn't answer Elsas' question but she didn't want to press further. The entire class had changed from watching Elsa read to watching Pitch as he stared at the blonde woman. She realised she was still stood up and hurriedly sat back down. Pitch continued to watch her for a beat longer before turning to the rest of the class.

"I will tell you what I think after you have aired your own thoughts. Was it affective, first of all?"

There were a few murmurs of agreement and eventually the class managed to warm up into a small discussion over the length of the piece.

"I just feel like there was a lot left unsaid, you know?"

"Yeah but don't you reckon that's part of it? She didn't know it herself so how was she meant to convey it to us as a reader?"

It was a strange feeling for people to be discussing such a personal piece of writing right in front of her but Elsa supposed that she ought to get used to critics if she wanted to write full time.

"If it had been longer the bittersweet element would have been lost."

"But something else could have come from it! You can't tell me that _The Iliad _should've been shorter to add more bitterness?!"

"Enough!" Pitch's smooth voice cut through the chatter and everyone's focus was instantly on him. "I agree that it was the right length. Anymore would have become boring and repetitive." Elsa looked at him and the tiniest hint of a smile tugged at her lips. She was proud and relived, but she didn't want to celebrate until he was done with her piece. She felt like there might be a-

"But-"

Ah, there it was.

"- I feel as though your writing is too simple. It's clear, sure, but there's no real emotion to it. It's clean, clinical and clear. No if or buts, no messy tear. You're telling us you just lost your sister to the big bad world of university. How does that actually make you _feel_?"

There was silence in the room. Elsa could feel everyone's eyes on her but she couldn't bring herself to consider anyone else in the room but Pitch. He was radiating some sort of charisma and it was addictive. She wanted him to tear her work apart and piece it together because she knew it was absolutely true. She was cold and clinical and it made her written work the same. She couldn't project feelings onto the paper because she had spent so long having to rein them in that Elsa just didn't know how to describe them all anymore. She concealed all her thoughts and emotions, knowing that if she didn't let them show that she would be stronger, for Anna.

And now she was looking at a man who she _knew_ could help her. In just ten minutes he had found and revealed to her to core problem in not only her writing, but her life, and saw no harm in stating it outright to her and everyone in the class. This man, this Pitch Black could help Elsa make her writing publishable, and she wasn't going to let it slip out of her hands.

* * *

The two hour long seminar passed in a vaguely pleasant manner. Not a single piece of writing escaped Pitchs' wrath entirely, some getting it worse than others but by the end it seemed that the elder man hadn't completely lost faith in the students. Jack did arrive late by about half an hour and Elsa could have sworn the temperature in the room dropped by a few degrees when the two men made eye contact.

"Sorry, _sir. _I had a lecture in the West building which ran over. I did send you an email about it yesterday." There was unrestrained venom in Jacks voice, though he chose his words carefully.

"Yes Frost, I recall. Don't let it happen again."

Jack had sat down next to Elsa and she could feel the young man bristling next to her. In an attempt to calm him she placed a gentle hand on his arm when Pitch had launched into an eloquent tirade about over use of alliteration. Jack looked at her and smiled thankfully, giving Elsa a little nod to let her know he was okay.

When the seminar finally came to a close it had seemed that everyone bar Jack felt a little more at ease with Pitch. Even Elsa, knowing that she would never say it to her friend, was beginning to understand why Professor North was so proud of the recent graduate. He was truly skilled at both writing and editing, and she was very happy that they had the opportunity to work with him. Elsa knew that she wanted to take advantage of having such a person available but was also aware of her best friends feelings for him. As they left the room she hesitated, quickly deciding to tell a couple of white lies to cover her tracks. She felt like she was going behind jacks back but reasoned with herself that there was nothing wrong with asking a tutor for help… right?

"I'll meet you at the front of the building, Jack. I need to sort some things out."

"S'okay, I'll wait here for you."

She inwardly grimaced before pushing it further.

"I just figured that you might be gagging for a cigarette after that."

"…I'll see you in five."

Celebrating her little victory, she turned back into the room where Pitch was talking to another student. She hung back awkwardly, waiting for them to leave before approaching Pitch herself. It was dark outside, the winter sun having set early, and all the windows in the room were acting like mirrors. Only now could she see just how tall Pitch was in comparison to her meagre five feet and 3 inches. She had always been the smaller of the two sisters, the petite waif to Annas tall, athletic build. She cursed her height as she faced the intimidating figure of Pitch Black.

"Erm, sir?"

"Please call me Pitch. And you were Miss Elsa Telvi, if I remember correctly?"

"Yes, sorry. Pitch." She swallowed. It had never been part of her plan to ramble and she calmed her thoughts before she continued. "What you said before, about my piece of writing? That I didn't put enough, or any, emotion into it. I was just wondering if you would be able to give me some advice about that?"

Pitch sighed. He looked condescendingly down at Elsa and she felt herself pull her back straighter, as if it would add some inches to her height.

"It's not just emotion, Elsa. It's that the entire thing, from the writing to your reading of it, was lacking persuasion."

The young woman shook her head.

"Persuasion? But what does that have to do with creative writing?"

That all too familiar smirk reached its way across Pitch's face and Elsa suddenly felt as though he were too close for comfort, though it didn't seem that he had moved at inch from where he had been standing.

"All writers have some darkness hiding in them, some sort of seductive power they use to lull a reader into believing every word. It's that power you lack, Elsa. You are far too... clean. Too innocent."

His words rang out all too clear and true for Elsa, who quickly flushed deep pink and looked away from the older man. In many ways she was a very innocent person. True, she had little experience of the world from outside the bubble she had built around Anna and herself and she was less than inexperienced when it came to a lot of emotional things such as romance. But she had had her fair share of darkness in her short life so far, didn't that count for something?

Pitch had gathered his things and was already heading out of the door, as though his words had finished the conversation. Elsa, however, had other plans.

"Teach me."

He stopped in the doorway. She couldn't see his reaction from here but she thought she could almost feel him bristling with disdain. The words were simple but held within them trust, honesty and the most enticing thing for a man such as Pitch Black; the handing over of power.

"Teach you?" There was a humourless chuckle but he turned to look at the young woman. She felt him looking beyond her outer appearance, looking for a hint of something. Weakness perhaps? Or maybe doubt, but she stood her ground, never letting her eye contact waver. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't give private lessons. Besides, the power of _artistic seduction_ isn't something you can teach."

The way he said that made her shiver, but she pressed on. Elsa didn't want to beg. Beyond her relative innocence she was still a proud woman and had no desire to bow to anybody, but she was at a loss over what else to do. She needed to improve and Pitch was the man who could help her, she knew it. What more could she do but plead with him? As far as she could see, Pitch Black wasn't the sort of person who would do something like this out of the goodness of his heart.

"It'll reflect badly on you if I fail the class."

"I'm a guest lecturer, it is of no consequence to me what marks you all receive."

"Please!" Frenzy had started to work its way into her voice and Elsa did everything she could to push it back. '_Panicking won't make this easier', _she reminded herself and took a deep breath before continuing. "Please. It doesn't have to be done for extra credit or anything like that. I'll even come to you out of hours. Mr Black, I'll do anything."

This made the corners of the man's lips twitch in what Elsa could only read as amusement.

"Don't start making promise you can't keep, little one."

"Don't patronise me!" She seethed. Pitchs' eyes widen by a fraction before he closed them entirely, in a mocking act of deep thought. He hummed a little before looking up and striding over to the young woman.

"If it means that much to you, convince me. You have until next week to write something that I might see some sort of promise in." He put one finger under her chin, using it to make Elsas eyes meet his. She froze in place, not knowing what to do. There was malice in his face and a sly grin crept into the corners of his mouth. "Try not to disappoint me, hmm?" With those words he patted her cheek condescendingly and swept out of the room, leaving only shadows to keep Elsa company.

Slowly, without any conscious thought, her hand rose to touch her cheek. A fierce blush was making its way across her face and her stomach twisted in knots. Elsa had never been more mortified in her life. How dare he treat her in such a way? She was a student and he was a-

-A guest lecturer and a former student.

Not an employee of the university by any means. What he did was no worse than if he were in a club, or any other public space in the eyes of the law.

And yet she was livid! How she longed to smack the grin off that face of his. Jack was absolutely right, Pitch Black was a snake who couldn't be trusted. However…

"_If it means that much to you, convince me…"_

That was a challenge if ever she'd heard one. Still shaking with fury she slung her bag over her shoulder and stormed out of the doorway and straight into the chest of a certain Mr Jack Frost.

"Whoa there Queenie!" He deftly caught her as she stumbled back in shock. "You alright Elsa? I was coming to look for you as you'd been a while." He smiled at her and Elsa felt the mortification and anger drop away. She was in good company, a person who would understand and enjoy a good moan about Pitch.

She wouldn't tell him the truth about her meeting with the new tutor. Jack would probably be more angry that her and maybe try to report Pitch or worse, take matters into her own hands. Elsa couldn't allow that to happen as she needed the older mans help in gaining this so call 'persuasion' in her own writing.

After all she had a challenge to meet and Elsa would hate to disappoint.


	3. Metaphor

It was Friday. It had been nearly three days since the seminar and Elsa hadn't been able to write a single sentence. Every time she started, something would snap inside and she was convinced that it was the worse piece of writing a person had ever produced. Her usually tidy apartment was littered with paper debris form abandoned attempts. Everything from napkins to copier paper had been snaffled from various locations to cut down on the cost of this endeavour. Elsa had never realised just how expensive paper was until she seemed to be working through stacks of it daily.

Of course her friends had noticed how on edge she had been over the past few days, Jack most of all. He had spent their entire coffee house meet up shooting worried glances at her and Elsa wasn't the only person who had noticed. Their friend Merida, an outspoken Scottish girl from Glasgow, decide something needed to be done, and fast.

"Ya know what I reckon?" She said in that wonderfully thick accent of hers. "I reckon we all need to go out tonight! The Student Union is throwing a 'Back to School' club night, what do ya think?"

There were a lot of 'yeahs' that rung out around the table but Elsa shook her head.

"Oh no, I really couldn't."

"Why, got important plans tonight Queenie?" Jack interjected teasingly, doing his best to add a little humour to his voice when all that filled it was concern.

"I can't leave Anna on her-" and that she realised, Anna wasn't at home anymore. The reason she had never accepted her friends offers of nights out was gone. Elsa felt guilty that a spark of elation ran up her spine. She could go out and stay out, with her friends, all night! She realised that everyone was watching her and she smiled broadly.

"Yes, let's."

Elsa didn't know what she was expecting but whoops and hollers of celebration were certainly not on the list.

"Finally!"

"We thought we'd never get you out!"

She laughed self-consciously but felt a warm glow inside her. Did they really want her to accompany them that much? Elsa was sure they would have given up on her by now, but here they all were excitedly chattering about the plans for the night.

"Right you lot, pre-drinks at mine at seven o'clock. That'll give us plenty o' time before we 'ave to leave." Merida looked pleased to be having all of her friends at her home for once. It seemed to Elsa that her wild mass of red hair almost perked up at the idea of a party.

Eventually she was pulled into a conversation about whether or not they should wear school uniforms and Elsa didn't have time to notice the weak, but genuine, smile directed at her from a pale haired admirer.

* * *

It was six o'clock and Elsa still hadn't decided what to wear. Her friends had decided against school uniform costumes (luckily, as Elsa didn't have anything she could have used) and so she had the pick of her wardrobe. This, embarrassingly, turned out to be decidedly little. Elsa hadn't needed to buy dressy, going out outfits in her years after becoming Anna's guardian and so most of her wardrobe consisted of frumpy but comfortable clothes.

Elsa sighed and put a hand to her temple. Was this really what she'd become?

"_It's a wonder I've managed to keep such good friends…"_ she thought as she rooted through a box at the back of her cupboard. Something sparkled at the bottom and Elsa pulled it out whilst thanking her lucky stars that sometimes (_all the time_) Anna didn't listen to her. It was a dark blue, velvet dress that Anna had bought for her the previous Christmas. Elsa had pleaded to her sister not to waste her money on buying her a gift but as usual, Anna hadn't taken any notice. This had been the gift that had made its way under the tree that year and Elsa had been genuinely surprised by her sister thoughtfulness.

"_It's for emergencies."_

"_What sort of emergencies would I need this for, Anna?"_

"_Oh you know, blind dates, crazy nights out… That sort of thing. You don't have anything like it and I thought it was elegant, like you."_

Anna was right, it certainly was an elegant dress and as Elsa pulled it over her head she marvelled at how well it fit. Not too flashy either, unlike Anna's usual taste, just a little silver beading at the bottom which sparkled delicately. Looking at herself in the mirror, Elsa was taken aback at how different she looked with the dress. She'd had to borrow some eye shadow from the pieces Anna had neglected to take with her and she didn't have any high heels so those were taken from her sisters room too. ("_Half a size too big doesn't matter"_ Elsa had reasoned to herself.) But now, looking at herself with butterflies of excitement flurrying around inside her and a beautiful dress hugging her figure, she felt like a real student. It was the first time since freshers week she was going out and she wasn't going to let anything stand in her way of a fun night!

* * *

It hadn't taken long for them to all be laughing and drinking at Meridas flat. Elsa had surprised everyone by turning up in something a little dressier than jeans and had been pleasantly surprised by the compliments the dress received.

'_I'll have to tell Anna!'_ she though as she took another swig of vodka and lemonade. It was so refreshing being away from her own flat, enjoying the company of her friends. They were all so kind and patient, she was content to just sit and watch the drunken antics as they all played Ring of Fire. That was, however, until she pulled the card to drink the dirty pint. A mixture of various spirits, mixer, cider and a pina colada concoction that someone had brought over, the drink looked disgusting. However, Elsa was already fairly tipsy and having never had a dirty pint before, she downed the drink in just over ten seconds. Cheers rang around the room and Merida hugged her shoulders.

"You havin' a good night there, Elsa?" the red head laughed. Another friend of theirs, Thiana Tooth, giggled wildly as Elsa slammed the glass on the table and threw her hands over hand mouth.

"What was _in_ that?!"

"Trust me, you don't want to know!" Thiana warned, her laughter becoming louder as Elsa pulled a comically worried face.

The night continued in a similar vein and before Elsa realised, she was being herded out of the door and out into a taxi to get them all to the club together and in one piece. Once they were inside and someone had bought a round (possibly Jamie, Elsa couldn't remember), they headed out onto the dance floor.

Her vision was fuzzy and she felt like her thoughts wanted to leak out of her ears. What had been in that dirty pint? She laughed, she hadn't felt this free in so long! Not caring what music was playing, she closed her eyes and let the beat pulse through her body, guiding it left and right. Suddenly the song change and her eyes shot open.

"I know this song!" She screamed at Merida. Her friend shouted something back and though the music drowned the words Elsa still laughed and they jumped up and down, moving to the music like no one was watching.

Is this what it felt like to be truly free? To have no worries or problems and to just let everything go? Elsa felt like she could spread her arms and fly, she was so happy and light.

It felt simultaneously like she had been dancing for centuries and for no more than a minute when a wave of thirst came over Elsa.

"I'm going to the bar. Want anything?" She shouted to Merida, who just shook her head and carried on dancing with a handsome bear of a man who had just appeared. Elsa grinned at her friends and started to shuffle her way back through the crowd. It took a few 'excuses mes' but she got to the bar in the end. As she was deciding on a drink, someone leaned over her and shouted to the bar tender.

"One vodbull, and a vodka, lime and lemonade for the little lady, please!"

Elsa looked over her shoulder and there stood Jack. He grinned that lopsided, ridiculous grin at her and she won't deny she felt a little flutter of something in her stomach. Or that might have been the dirty pint coming back to haunt her…

After he paid for the drinks, Elsa followed Jack to the smoking area outside where they both sat against a wall and she finally got to have her drink. She took a sip and looked at him with mock disgust.

"Only a single? Jack, how old do you think I am?"

"And how rich do you think I am?" He winked at her, "If you don't want it Queenie, I'll drink it gladly!"

Elsa clutched her drink tighter and shuffled away from the young man, shaking her head childishly. He laughed at her drunken antics and downed his own drink before lighting up a cigarette. She watched with that rapt curiosity that only alcohol or childhood can give a person. Everything, from the spark and flare of the lighter and the warm red glow of the lit cigarette to the spiralling wisps of smoke that left Jack slightly parted lips, fascinated her. Slowly as he took drags of the stick and the glow barely lit up his face, Elsa became less interested in the cigarette and more interested in Jack.

His lips, the ones that always told such funny jokes and witty come backs, were cracked. She had always imagined them to be soft but they looked so dry. His pale skin showed signs of exhaustion, the veins visible, especially around his eyes. And his eyes. Elsa didn't think she'd ever seen such sad eyes. She realised that she was staring but the mixture of vodka and curiosity gave her a boldness that urged her to shuffle closer. She raised a hand to Jacks cheek and felt how cold he was but she barely noticed as Elsa found herself drawn inexplicably towards those eyes. Now that the cigarette was long forgotten, the only light was the dim street lighting and it cast dark shadows on Jacks face, but still she could just about see herself reflect in the deep blue of her irises. They weren't pools, or oceans or any other weak metaphor. They were just his eyes, and they were filled with an acute sadness. He looked away and pushed her hands from his face.

"Elsa, stop." He spoke softly, if she hadn't been so close to him she might not have heard the request.

"Why?" Elsa made a move to replace her hands but the severity in his face stopped her.

"You're drunk."

"Am not." She retorted, yawning widely.

"I'm not playing this game." All of the fun had left his voice. Elsa thought he almost sounded… broken? He pushed himself up off the ground and by the time he turned around to face her again, he had a big smile on his face.

"Come on then, sleepy head. Let's get you home, eh?"

At any other time Elsa would have demanded an explanation. She would have told him that something was bothering him, that he looked ill and she had noticed that his clothes were hanging off him a little bit more than usual. She would have, in any other situation, but at the point her drunk self was so happy that he wasn't angry at her that she took his hand gladly and pulled him back into the club.

It was at least another hour before they finally left the club. Elsa had insisted on buying another round of drinks for everyone and before she knew it one of her favourite songs was playing. She had promised Jack they'd go home after "just one more song" and suddenly it was half past two in the morning and all the buses had finished for the night.

"I'm so sorry Jack. No really, I am." Elsa swung her arms as she stumbled along the road. Jack didn't have the heart to stay mad at her for too long and was laughing at her misguided attempts to cheer him up. From jumping into puddles in her high heels to swinging around lamp posts singing 'Singing in the Rain', drunken Elsa was just far too amusing to be grumpy around.

"Why don't you come out more often Elsa?"

"Oh I can now! But before I had to look after Anna, you see. I didn't want to leave her on her own." Elsa spoke matter-of-factly about it and waved her hands. "But hey, now she's at university I can come out all the time! Tonight has been so much fun, hasn't it Jack?" She grinned and Jack faltered in his drunken strut for just a beat before grinning back.

"Certainly has been, Queenie."

"Why do you call me that?"

Elsa must've caught Jack off guard because there was a seconds pause before answering. He shrugged one shoulder and turned away from her slightly.

"Because you're my Ice Queen." He answered simply. There it was again, that sadness she'd seen in his eyes had managed to creep into his voice. Elsa didn't know how to respond, so instead she tried to deal with the issue that they had both been ignoring. The buses were no longer running and Jack lived on the other side of town. He had stayed on the couch before after long study sessions or film nights so it wasn't weird to be asking Jack to stay.

Except this time she was alone in the house and Elsa still hadn't forgotten the strange flips in her stomach at the sight of his grin.

'_Besides, he was looking very handsome in that shirt…_'

She stopped herself from taking that thought any further. She didn't think of Jack like that.

'_Or have you just been stopping yourself, just like you had stopped yourself from going out with all your friends? And look at how much tonight was…_'

"You know, the buses have all finished for the night and it'll take you ages to walk home. I have a spare bed now Anna's gone, why don't you stay the night?"

"I can't, lots of work to be doing in the morning. I guess I'll see you later?"

Elsa nodded and smiled tiredly. She really was drunk. They said they goodnights and she headed to her room to get changed into her pyjamas as she was pulling off her dress there was a knock on the door. She threw her dressing gown on and went to open the door.

Jack stood there was a sheepish grin, dripping wet. Behind him the rain had suddenly began to hammer down.

"Actually, a spare bed would be great. Thank-" He stopped and looked away, a roaring blush racing to his cheeks. Elsa looked down and realised in her drunken state, while she had put her robe on she had neglected to tie it up, thus showing her lingerie to the world and more importantly, Jack.

Again, the sober Elsa would have been mortified but this strange, drunken Elsa decided to enjoy and play with the situation. Her moods were all over the show tonight. One minute she was tired, the next she was, to put it bluntly, horny. Besides, wasn't she meant to be learning the power of seduction and persuasion? Isn't that the reason her home looked like a waste paper dump? Maybe this could be used as a learning experience? That was how she drunkenly rationalised her actions in her head as she leaned against the door and opened the dressing gown further, pushing one side down off her shoulder.

"What's the matter Jack?" She could see he was watching from the corner of his eye and after a quick glance to check that there was nobody else around to see, Elsa took a step forward and pressed her body against his. He let out a soft groan.

"Elsa, please. You're drunk." Jack tried to push her away but she grabbed his hand and awkwardly placed it on the small of her back. He looked around and shuffled her into the building again. "Come on, someone will see you-"

"It's the middle of the night! Come on Jack," she kicked the door shut behind him and pulled him by his shirt further into her home. There were screwed up balls of paper all over the floor but Elsa didn't give Jack a chance to question anything in the house. Tightening her grip on the blue shirt Jack was wearing, she pulled him so she could swing an arm around his neck and crashed their mouths together. Jack keened before giving in to her persistent lips, kissing back fiercer than she imagined anybody could. She felt his hands, previously so reluctant, fly to her sides and back trying to trace every inch of skin on display. Elsa twisted her fingers into his snowy white hair and deepened the already powerful kiss. She had never kissed anyone like this before. There were promises and regret on Jacks lips but she pushed those thoughts aside as she hitched a leg up to hold onto his waist. This unbalanced the pair and sent them crashing onto the living room sofa.

Elsa set about undoing the buttons on Jacks shirt, becoming more and more frustrated as her hands wouldn't work for her properly, a mixture of drunkenness and apprehension filling her. Jack just watched her as she work diligently before putting a hand on top of hers.

"Elsa, are you okay? Are you sure about this?" His voice was full of care and, dare Elsa believe it, love. But she nodded and pressed on with the buttons, looking back down at his shirt. Suddenly Jacks hand was on her chin, bringing her eyes to meet his. A rush of heat passed through her and the same coiled knot tightened in her stomach as when Pitch had held her gaze in the exact same way only days before. But the man before now her was not challenging or condescending, he was full of adoration and hope, and Elsa wanted nothing more right then than to pull him closer and never let him go.

"Jack, trust me." She smiled and kissed him gently, just as she managed to undo the last of the buttons. She pulled the shirt off his shoulders and let her fingers trace down his body. She moved from the scar he'd gotten from the surgery he'd needed after the ice hockey incident down over his ribs which were just a little too prominent. By now the pair had gotten used to the darkness inside the apartment and could easily use what little light filtered in from the street to map each other's bodies with their eyes but fingertips were far more inviting.

He was drunk and she was drunk and Elsa just couldn't bring herself to care anymore. She had been lonely without Anna in the house and Jack was so warm and real against her. He held her like she might break, and Elsa honestly thought she might if he weren't careful, but she needn't have worried. Jack stood up and lifted her to her feet gently before she started to lead him to her room. It was warmer there, not that either of them wanted any source of heat other than one another.

* * *

_I could run. I could run into adoration and absolute safety. I could run to soft words and a warm touch. I could run to kindness and love, and I do need love. I need it to survive every day. I need it to know that when I wake up before the dawn, the sun will rise in its own time. I need it to step out into the world and have to confidence to take whatever those acid winds choose to whip and burn into my skin. I need love so that I know that I am never truly alone. I could let these lies and images fall away to the breeze. And I would love nothing more than to be able to take this weight from my back, to rid myself of notions._

_But the world is not an amalgam of illusion. There is a reality that bites and scratches. It will tear your throat out and rip you apart. It will creep beside you and scald you with its touch. You will never be rid of its marks. It uses these to bring you down from your dreams, out of the starlight and into the cruel heat of the day. I have too many scars to remove, too much reality inside of me to ever find sanctuary in anyone's arms. I am hurt and I am vulnerable. Reality has marked me in ways I have yet to come to terms with and I am filthy from its touch._

_So I do run. But I run to escape, not to embrace. I run into dreams of distant lands and wondrous sights. I leap into the arms of books, crawl into their universes, hide myself away from this harsh reality. For I know that illusion is not my enemy here. It is more than an ally, it is a dear and welcome friend. I worry about what I'll find if I head too far into reality but equally I fear of losing myself to dreams and wishes, knowing that they won't come true._

_And that's where reality kills you. It leads you to believe and then it shoots you down from on high. It laughs (they all laugh) as you lie in the dust waiting for some release but it never comes._

_I know well of sanctuary and illusion, but for me they are one and the same._


End file.
